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Page 397
admitting it, either. Sometime during the procession, Sir Henry and Sir Walter arrived. Had they been less brave men, they would have turned tail and fled when they caught their first glimpse of Alinor's face. If Ian were sore wounded, they could in some measure be blamed for it, since Alinor had summoned them specifically to support her husband. They waited in an agony of apprehension until the last defeated knight had departed.
''My lady, my lady, where is he?" Sir Walter begged. "How came he to be so sore hurt? I saw him not an hour since fighting strongly."
If Alinor recognized who was speaking to her, she gave no sign of it. "Who said Lord Ian was hurt? Not I. I thank you for your service, it was well and loyally done. You are welcome to stay and pleasure in the court now, if that is your will, or to leave, if you so desire."
Sir Henry stared at a mistress he did not recognize. Cold thanks were not Alinor's way. She could be icy in disapproval or blazingly angry, but thanks were always given with smiles and embraces, with laughing eyes and a flooding of warmth. Something was desperately wrong, but he could not even guess at what. "I will stay a day or two," he said roughly. "If you have need of me, my lady, do you send to my lodging, and I will come."
"I also," Sir Walter echoed.
"Very well," Alinor agreed tonelessly. "I thank you."
Then, without a farewell or a look at the squires who waited uneasily in the background, she turned her horse and rode away. There was a mad scramble to follow her, men mounting and gathering up equipment that could not be left behind. Her castellans watched her retreating back with open mouths. Such heedlessness of men and property was totally unprecedented in Alinor.
The act, however, was not a result of heedlessness, shock, or even rage. Alinor simply wished to arrive home without any witnesses. If Ian were not yet there, she would not need to make excuses or explanations. She could retire to her solar and leave Ian to explain

 
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